


That's A Man Without A Woman

by Audiomedic



Category: overwatch
Genre: Characters listed as they appear, Domestic-ish AU, Ends in angst, F/M, Family, Fluffy-ish beginning, Jack is a lone bean for this one, Only mentions of Angela, Small Bunnyribbit cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 14:57:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12323313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audiomedic/pseuds/Audiomedic
Summary: What's a man without a woman? Lonely and lost, no use at all. A boat without an ocean. Something that isn't much good for anything.TL; DR, this is going to be a somewhat Domestic AU Mercy76 fic from Jack's perspective. It'll go through his life with Angela only being mentioned, having Jack deal with situations without her. Fair warning, it will end in angst.(And yes, it's based on the Trent Tomlinson song of the same name.)





	That's A Man Without A Woman

A small groan escapes the soldier, as the glaring sound of his alarm clock tells him it's time to get up and seize the day. Most of the time, Jack would be thrilled to take the world by it's throat, take each punch, and return to sleep knowing he made a difference in this world. However, today was not that day. Groggy, and with a pounding head, the young man fumbles through the dark to try and find the magic button which would grant him five more minutes. With a groan and a hearty slap, the beeping silences for another five minutes. Another five minutes of blissful slumber.

 

Twenty-five, just yesterday. The party that was thrown for hitting the milestone must've been massive, judging by the fact that he couldn't remember any of it. His mind was still clouded, the soft glow of the morning light shining in throw the window absolutely agonizing in his eyes. To put it lightly, Jack was an absolute mess. A slob. Again, his alarm sounded, the piercing beep hell on his hungover ears. 

 

However, despite how absolutely awful he felt, he didn't have time to waste. If he took too much time laying here on his lumpy mattress, he might mess the rest of the day. And that in itself felt like a sin.

 

Grunting again, he slapped the clock, grumbling something to himself as he moved to sit up. As he did, two bottles of alcohol came crashing against the floor, luckily not breaking but making one hell of a clatter instead. The blond cringed, before moving his fingers to lightly massage against his head.

 

Too much partying, not enough sleeping.

 

This seemed to be a theme for Jack Morrison, up-in-coming leader of the Seventy-Sixth Strike Force for the Overwatch Protection Agency. A fancy title, and you'd be damned if you thought he wasn't proud of it. Ever since his youth, he'd looked up to these heroes. Those who would set their lives on the line to protect the innocents. He vowed to one day become one... and here he was.

 

Late.

 

Jack, once more, grumbled under his breath. He was in no condition to work today, but that had never stopped him before. His hair was going every direction but straight, he smelt vaguely of the booze he'd spent all night chugging, and he desperately needed to shave... But none of that really mattered to him right now. All that mattered was a change of clothes from his skivvies to his uniform, and to hit the road.

 

... And, unfortunately, his best friend Gabriel Reyes. 

 

"Get up, dumbass." Jack nearly growled to the San Fransico native. If he wouldn't have known any better, he would've thought he was a dead body lying right there on his couch.

 

"... Lemme sleep, Jackass..." He slurred back, throwing up the bird like he owned the place.

 

"No. Reyes, we're late."

 

"... Tell 'em t'eat my ass."

 

That right there was why Gabriel had been denied a leadership roll, but Jack would never tell him that to his face. Instead, he rolled his bloodshot eyes.

 

"Fine. Ditch 'em. But don't come crying to me when you lose your job."

 

"Fuck you, Morrison." Came his groggy response, before he let his hand come crashing down against the couch.

 

"Fuck you too, Reyes. At least clean this place up while I'm gone." He commanded, while slipping his arm through the navy-blue jacket he'd been assigned to wear. A large 76 was printed on the backside, three stripes and a star decorating the front. "I don't know how you're fine with living like this."

~~ ~~

* * *

 

With a pounding head and an aching body, Jack hurried off to work. Half an hour late definitely wouldn't look good on his record, no, but sometimes, these things took cuts. At least he didn't completely disregard the work they had to do like his best friend. No... That would be even worse. At least he had some sense of priority in his mind...

 

Reaching into his glovebox, Jack took a bottle of cologne, giving himself a few squirts of it to musk the smell of alcohol. What kind of Commanding Officer came to work hung over? The ones who didn't have jobs, that's who. Jack would do all he could to prevent the loss of this job. He didn't need the feint odor of whiskey causing anyone harm.

 

Finally, Jack pulled into the parking lot of the base. Already, the place seemed to be bustling with life. Something that he, frankly, wouldn't be able to deal with today. Walking slowly and with a pair of sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes, Jack walked up to the Omnic at the receptionist desk. It tilted her head up to him.

 

"Jack Morrison?" It questioned, tilting it's head to the side. "You are l--"

 

"Late, yes, I know." Jack quickly interjected. "Traffic got backed up this morning, and m--"

 

"Reports indicate that traffic has been going smoothly all day on the route you usually take to work, Mr. Morrison."

 

A moment passed after the injection where Jack simply looked at her. "... I took a different route."

 

"May I have an exact route, so I can run a background check to make sure your story is not fictitious, Mr. Morrison?"

 

"Y--... No!" Jack said, shaking his head at her. "Just... Tell them I had a rough morning this morning, okay? I'm going to training." Jack grumbled, headed on without a second look back.

 

"Affirmative. Informing higher-ups Jack Morrison was late today. Don't work your squadron too hard, Mr. Morrison!"

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the day was as agonizing as possible. With whiny trainees and the others always breathing down his neck, he was certainly spent by the end of the day. The loud noises... The lights... The people... He was ready to be done. To return home to his shitty little apartment and argue with Gabriel about rent. Sounded like just the kind of night he needed tonight. The kind...

 

No. Not today.

 

He had a better idea. He was going to go out, and drink this hangover away. Happy hour was almost upon him... He could deal with the crushing responsibilities of his lonely, practically insufferable life later. What he needed right now was more to drink. A high that he could--

 

His thoughts were interrupted as he nearly ran over someone, his angry stomping not letting his mind work to well. Down the two of them toppled, papers and keys going everywhere, startled noises escaping both parties.

 

"I-I... I apologize..." Jack got out, a hand going up to rub his forehead, which now felt as if it were going to split in two and start spurting fire everywhere.

 

"Ah... No, I'm the one who should be truly sorry. My mind was wondering again..."

 

Jack finally turned to see who it was that he bumped into, his heart seeming to stop in his chest as his eyes befell her. Before him sat the most beautiful woman he had ever met. A soft tint of pink tinted his cheeks at just how much of a fool he'd already made himself, a soft, awkward chuckle making itself known in the simple silence that came between them. 

 

"H-Here... Let me help you. I am so, so sorry." He murmured, beginning to gather the lab reports and medical documents that now scattered the floor.

 

"Why, how gentlemanly." Came her voice again, a thin layer of sarcasm dotting her words as she spoke. "... Correct me if I'm wrong, but you must be Commander Morrison."

 

"That would be right." Came his response, gathering the papers into a neat little pile in his arms. "And, if you don't mind me asking... Just who might you be?"

 

"Doctor Angela Ziegler, lead feild operator, and the world's leader in nanobiology." She returned to him, an underlying sense of pride to the way she spoke those words. "Those on the field call me Mercy."

 

"Mercy, huh?" Jack returned, a cock in his brow. He handed the small pile of papers to her. "That's quite strange. I like it."

 

A small smile overcame her at his words, as she accepted the papers, soon taking the keys that were dropped on the floor, too. "I am gladdened to hear that."

 

"No problem." He said, before realizing just how awkward that was. He decided to change the subject. "I'm... Sorry this is the way we had to meet. Next time, I'll make sure I know which way I'm going."

 

She let out a small laugh at that. "Wonderful. Don't worry, Commander Morrison. There's still plenty of time to make a better first impression."

 

"... Jack." He corrected her, soon coming to stand fully.

 

She let out a soft sound of amusement at his correction. "Right. Jack... I'll see you around." She told him, before heading off and away. Jack simply watched her leave for a moment, waiting before headed out the doors and to the parking lot.

 

Screw the bar. He was going home... He needed to think of ways not to make himself look like a huge ass.


End file.
